“She was like this . . . as a kitten?” Vannya said, her eyes wide. She was so entranced in her observation of the cat, that she had stopped writing.
“No-no,” said Stolz. “Yowler was just a regular cat back then. A tawny one with stripes. I have no idea how she ended up out here alone. Perhaps she wandered away from one of the villages. I had just lost my previous bonded, a beautiful lala bird that had died of old age. Her name was Miss Treesh and I missed her terribly.”
“This guy loves the details,” Theodore grumbled.
“When Bluth brought Yowler to the door, we bonded immediately,” Stolz continued. “Such a good cat. A strong mouser. A real cuddler. Would you believe she saved my life once? We were-.”
“What the hell happened to the thing?” Vannya blurted. Stolz gave her a stunned look and her freckled cheeks reddened. “I . . . apologize for my roughness. My mind is just focused on the mission. Uh, how did your lovely cat become . . . this?”
The bonding wizard cleared his throat. He let go of the cat and it wandered to the rear of the cabin, where it curled up on the slime-soaked grass mats that covered Bluth’s bed. “It was about eight weeks ago. Yowler became distressed. She cried out in alarm through the bond. The vivid image of sharp teeth flashed through her thoughts and she disappeared.”
He put his hand on his chest. “I panicked. At first I thought she was dead, but I have experienced the death of a bonded before and this wasn’t it. She was just gone. The bond couldn’t even give me a direction as to where she was. I went to the place where she had last been but I saw nothing.
“About a week later, I felt her presence again. She was deep in the swamp and unconscious and . . . different. I tried to wake her, but she couldn’t hear me. Then one morning, she awoke. Her mind was wild and hungry and strange. It took a while for me to get through to her, but then she recognized my voice. Slowly her memories returned and she came home like she is now. She is still Yowler, but she is part troll.”
“And you think that what happened to her has something to do with this Troll Mother that lives under the swamp?” Vannya asked.
“I wasn’t sure before, but now that I have seen the creature you brought to me . . . I am confident,” he said. “I have searched Yowler’s memories and it is a bit hazy, but when she awoke, there were a group of people there.”
Stolz gestured at his eyes. “The way her trollish vision works doesn’t give me a clear view of what they looked like, just blobs of heat without a great deal of detail. But there were many of them. She felt a kinship with this people as if they were family to her in some way. If it hadn’t been for her bond with me I believe she would have stayed with them. What if these creatures that you have run into are part of this group? People that were swallowed by the Troll Mother and reborn as something new?”
“By the gods,” said Jhexin, his stunned eyes locked with Jhonate’s. “All those missing villagers. What if they were not captured by the Roo-Dan after all?”
“Our people. Taken . . . and changed,” said Jhonate in horror. “Turned into monsters.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Let’s us go back to the weirdies!” Durza complained, tugging on the back of Talon’s robes. Her voice was high pitched and nasal. “Master’ll find us when he’s ready.”
“Ssilence!” Talon said. She was on all fours, examining the tracks of a creature she was unfamiliar with. The track was over a week old, but she could see that it had clawed feet and its scent was teeming with magical overtones. The area was covered in such tracks. “There may be enemiess nearby!”
If someone saw the two of them from a distance, they would have made for an odd sight on the outskirts of the swamps. One woman concealed under hooded black robes. One red-headed woman wearing a frilly light blue dress. Up close, their presence would have been cause for alarm.
Talon had once been a raptoid but, under the constant magical ministrations of Ewzad Vriil, had been transformed into a lithe, quick, and deadly assassin. Durza’s leathery and mottled green skin didn’t at all match the wig and dress she wore. She was a clumsy gorc that had been born with powerful bewitching magic.
Durza stomped her foot. “I telled you there’s not no enemies! My witchy witch magic says there’s only frogs and bugs and a cat and a turtle . . .” she squinted her eyes shut and pointed a dirty finger to the north. “And a piggy. Maybe you catch the piggy and we eat it? I like to eat piggies.”
Talon hissed, wanting to tear the stupid red wig off of the gorc’s head and stomp it into the mud at the side of the trail. Only she had already done so twice already this morning and it hadn’t fixed anything. Both times the gorc had merely put the dirty thing back on her head and increased her whining. Durza had an obsession for the trappings of humanity. She loved dresses and wigs and makeup, anything that made her feel beautiful. She’d still be wearing those awful ill-fitting human shoes if Talon hadn’t cut them to shreds.
“No piggiess,” Talon snapped. Then again, the thought of slaughtering a pig was appealing to her. “Maybe later. Firsst we go back to the cave. We see what the Masster wantss of uss.”
“Don’t wanna see him now!” Durza complained. She stepped off of the trail and stumbled in the dense foliage, her long frilly dress catching underfoot. She swayed and her voice took on a plaintive tone. “Let’s us stay here tonight. Cook the piggy, Talon. We go back to the weirdies in the mornin’.”
Much had changed since Talon and Durza had left Pinewood over six months ago. The thing that had come to vex Talon the most was that Durza no longer feared her. Once Durza had realized that Talon no longer intended to kill her, she had become a lot less willing to do the raptoid’s bidding. The result was constant complaining.
Durza still did what Talon demanded eventually, but nothing came easy. It took every ounce of self-control the raptoid had not to cut her or beat her every time Durza argued. Self-control was something relatively new for Talon and it was something that she had very little of. She feared that one day she would snap and kill the gorc. She had nightmares where this would happen and when she awoke to find Durza still alive, Talon considered leaving.
Matthew, the ancient and powerful man that was Talon’s new master, said that this was a good sign. He told her that the very fact that she feared for the safety of her friend showed that she wasn’t as broken as she thought. This friendship was a healthy thing for her.
Despite his assurances, it was a constant struggle. Both Matthew and John had muted the darkness inside her, yet Talon felt the compulsion to kill constantly. She had found her claws inches from the gorc’s throat many times.
“Do you not ssee that the army was here?” Talon reasoned. “Masster may be hurt!”
Some time ago, the Prophet had come to the master’s cave to warn him that an army was approaching. An ‘army of demons’, he had called it. Talon wasn’t sure what made something a demon, but she had found the tracks of kobalds and this new creature. There had even been a few humans and gnomes mixed in. Talon wasn’t good at figuring numbers, but she knew there were a lot. Enough that she was worried for Matthew’s safety.
“I’m not worried about the master.” Durza said. “He is big magical like the Prophet man. I like the weirdies. I wanna go back there.”
Talon scowled. The weirdies was Durza’s name for the creatures Matthew called thulls. Talon found the presence of the large passive beasts disturbing. How could something so formidable be so gentle? It made her itch. Durza, on the other hand, found the way that their simple minds reacted to her magic comforting. This was the first time she had been this reluctant to leave the village, though.
Talon stopped and turned on the gorc, her voice tinged with suspicion. “Why iss you acting thiss way? You alwayss want to ssee Masster. You like his cookingss.”
Durza folded her arms and looked away, refusing to meet Talon’s eyes. “Not today. Today I like the weirdies best.”
“What iss it?” Talon said, coming closer and baring her teeth threa
teningly. “What doess you know? Does your magic ssee ssomething?”
Durza turned completely away from her. “Nope.”
Talon grabbed the gorc’s shoulder and spun her back around to face her. Talon’s claws punctured the frilly dress, digging into Durza’s skin. A soft, but insistent voice in the back of her mind cried, Tear her. Bleed her. Eat her! Talon pushed back the compulsion. “What do you ssee, Durza?”
“Ouch! You is hurtinged me, Talon. You . . .” Durza had learned where Talon’s breaking point was and knew that the raptoid was very close to it. She sighed. “Master is not there. He gone!”
“Where?” Talon said, tightening her grip.
“Agh! I dunno. Ow-ow-ow!” Durza gasped.
Talon forced her hands to unclench. “Why did you not ssay thiss before?”
“Master sayed not to. Ooh! My dress!” Durza said, looking at the small tears in the fabric. “This’ll be ruined now too!”
Talon felt no guilt about that. The gorc had ruined four of the dresses she had dragged from Pinewood already. This one was already filthy and ragged, looking much less like the powder blue it had been and more like the dried mud and troll slime that coated it. Talon would much rather Durza give up her obsession with such dresses. All they did was slow her down.
“When did he tell you?” Talon pressed.
Durza pouted. “When we was leavin’ the cave. Master talked to me in my brain. He sayed that he was maybe leavin’ and he telled me to try and keep you from chasin’ after him as long as I could.”
Talon hissed. This explained the gorc’s behavior over the past few days as she had whined and cajoled, using every way she could think of to delay their return. She turned away from Durza and shed her black robe. Leaving the cumbersome thing behind as she headed for Matthew’s cave.
“Wait for me!” the gorc hollered. She picked up Talon’s robe and hiked up her dress to try and keep up.
Talon sped through the jungle undergrowth, keeping to tight trails that she had followed many times over the last few months. If she hadn’t been so concerned for her master, she would have enjoyed the freedom that came from shedding the heavy garment that Matthew made her wear.
He had told her that the robe’s main purpose was to hide Talon’s true nature from the thulls in the village, but she had been able to feel the calming magical influence that he had woven into its fibers. Right now she did not want to be calmed.
The closer she drew to Matthew’s cave home, the more evidence there was of the army’s invasion. The demons must have camped there for at least two nights. Vines and small trees had been hacked down and sections of earth cleared for the setting of tents, while scattered here and there were the cold black husks of abandoned cook fires.
Soon, she heard the sound of rushing water. The area right around Matthew’s waterfall showed the most damage. The area had been completely wiped clean of foliage and there was refuse scattered about.
Talon’s heartbeat quickened with anger as she ducked behind the waterfall to find her master’s front door left wide open. Matthew’s floor and the fine rug that sat in front of the fireplace were soaked from the constant mist of the waterfall. The interior didn’t look like a cave at all. It resembled one of the finer homes of Pinewood. Wooden walls and plush furnishings.
Everything seemed to be in its place. Talon moved to Matthew’s workbench and opened the chest he stored beneath it. Several items of magical power were there, including the last remaining white orb. She thought that strange. Whatever the army had done here, they hadn’t bothered to loot the place.
She was headed towards her master’s bedroom when a distinct scent crossed her nose. Talon let out a hissing growl. Blood. Her master’s blood.
Talon crouched down, letting her nose lead her to the place. When she found the darkish stain on the floorboards, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. It was definitely Matthew’s blood, but there wasn’t much of it. Just a few drops. He had been wounded, but the intruders hadn’t killed him. Or if they had, they hadn’t done it here.
She was still crouched there, pondering what it meant when Durza burst through the door, a frown on her face. “I telled you he weren’t here!”
“They took him,” Talon replied, a certainty coming over her. “Thiss army hurtss Masster and took him away.”
The whiny tone left the gorc’s voice. “He knowed this was gonna happen.” Durza approached Talon and ran a soothing hand across the top of the raptoid’s scaled head. Talon felt the urge to let go of her urgency and relax. She knew that it came from the gorc’s magic. “He wanted us to stay and wait. Protect the weirdies.”
Talon drew back from her hand and stood. “You will not calm me. Not this time.”
“What is you gonna do?” Durza asked worriedly.
“I will go and ssave him. Bring Masster back,” Talon decided.
Durza shook her head violently. “No way. That army is too big-big.”
“I do not intendss to fight them all,” Talon said with a snort. “I will be quiet. I will be ssneaky. Ewwie taught me to be quiet and ssneaky.”
“But I’m not, Talon. I’m not!” Durza reasoned.
Talon cocked her head. “You are the good one. You do as Masster wishes. Sstay with the village. I will go and getss him.”
“N-no, Talon.” Durza clutched her arm and pleaded, “Don’t leave me ‘lone. Don’t leave me ‘looone.”
Talon understood her stress. The last time she had gone out and left the gorc behind, she had been captured by Mellinda. Weeks had gone by before the Prophet freed her and she was able to return. Unfortunately, she had to do this alone. She needed to use her old skills for a time and she could not do that with Durza at her side.
“I musst.” Talon caressed her arm gently, a rare sign of affection from a creature for whom affection had previously been a precursor to violence. She pulled herself out of the gorc’s grasp.
“W-wait,” Durza said, tears rolling down her cheeks. She picked up Talon’s black robes and handed them to her. “Take this. He maked them to hide you. Maybe they will help.”
Talon didn’t wish to do as she asked, but Durza’s expression was desperate. Reluctantly, she slid the robe back on. She pulled the hood down over her head. Its calming influence was subtle. She could remove it if needed.
Talon left without another word. Durza would likely just try to convince her to stay longer. She did not know if Matthew could afford that.
She set herself on the demon army’s trail, putting the gorc out of her mind. Durza would be fine travelling back to the village on her own. Her bewitching magic would keep any of the swamp’s dangers away.
Once she reached the forest’s edge, Talon noticed that the army’s tactics changed. They began hiding their tracks. They cleaned up after themselves and the magic of the kobalds left the earth undisturbed by their passing. This didn’t hide them from Talon, of course. Though they were many days ahead of her, the trail left by their magic was as easy for her to sense as a trail of blood.
She extended her senses to their limit and moved at a quick pace, avoiding any intelligent creatures and the delay that such meetings might cause. She only stopped to eat if an easy hunting opportunity presented itself. Gone were the days when Talon would torture her prey for fun. The Prophet’s help had numbed that desire, but she still savored a good kill.
As much as she had learned to enjoy the intricate mix of flavors brought on by human cooking, there was something far more satisfying about eating an animal the moment its heart stopped beating. Perhaps it was a remnant of her raptoid instincts.
She wondered if Deathclaw still hunted like a raptoid. Had he finally given up the old ways? Did he eat with fork and spoon the way his human master did?
She had heard the voice of Deathclaw’s human master on the night Matthew had sent her and Durza away. Sir Edge, the man Mellinda had referred to as a bonding wizard, had been with the Prophet when he had warned Matthew about the army. Talon wondered where Deathcla
w was now? Would they ever meet again? Would he kill her if they did?
Several days passed by and Talon gained on her quarry. The army had traveled eastward, staying out of the marshes and skirting any human communities, undoubtedly using their magic to hide themselves from notice. Talon was also careful to stay concealed. Not only did she take care to lighten her tracks, she used the pheromone glands that her old master Ewwie had given her, erasing every trace of her scent just in the odd chance that Deathclaw should happen to cross them. She didn’t need her brother interrupting her just yet.
One evening, a new scent rose in the air. It was humid and salty and slightly fishy. She couldn’t quite identify it, but knew there was a large body of water ahead. At daybreak that morning she entered a clearing at the top of a large hill and froze in awe and terror.
Ahead of her, not a mile away was a long band of white sandy coastline much like the sand of the deserts of her childhood. Beyond that was a never ending mass of blue. Water, farther than Talon could see. This was what she had tasted in the air. Beautiful and massive and deadly; the ocean. She had thought there was no way a body of water could be larger than the Wide River. For a creature that had spent her entire life land-locked it was as if she was looking at the end of the world.
The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9) Page 32
